


heart stutters like moths wings

by ihavetoomuchfreetime



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Babies, Break Up, Doritos - Freeform, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, On the Road Again Tour, Take Me Home Tour, The X Factor Era, featuring Brooklyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:27:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3395318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihavetoomuchfreetime/pseuds/ihavetoomuchfreetime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>non-au. the four times that zayn shows liam he loves him, and the one time he says it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heart stutters like moths wings

**Author's Note:**

> wow i am a mess. a hot, spicy mess.  
> i think it is more than obvious that whilst writing it i wanted doritos, and i was still pretty messed up about zayn dropping that selfie with brooklyn #rip  
> i really have no idea where this came from but here you are lol  
> special thanks to my wife [jazz](http://www.fakehabitat.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing this for me super quickly, and [ellen](http://www.zavenclaw.tumblr.com/) for putting up with my moaning about my inability to write fic  
> any mistakes are mine and i am not affiliated with 1d blah blah blaaahh
> 
> enjoy

****

*****

**heart stutters like moths wings**

****

**i.– x factor**

Liam’s in bed, hands folded on his chest and staring at the great white expanse that is the ceiling above him. He’s been in bed for a good few hours, and he’s done nothing but lay still on his back and stare at the ceiling, sleep determinedly avoiding him. Across the room, he hears Niall’s heavy and loud snoring, wishing that sleep would come as easily to him as it does for Niall.

But, it doesn’t. It rarely does. He lets out heavy sigh.

Beneath him, Zayn stirs. “Li?” comes a quiet voice, thick with sleep. “Are you still awake?”

Liam debates whether he should answer or not, but eventually mutters out a quiet, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Zayn scoffs. “Don’t _apologise_.” There’s shuffling, before he speaks again. “Why’re you still up?”

Liam doesn’t answer. He huffs out a breath and fiddles with his fingers. “No reason,” he lies with a whisper. “It’s nothing.”

There’s shuffling again, and then Zayn’s head pokes over the railing of the bunk bed. Even in the darkness, he can see Zayn’s scrutinizing stare, the purse of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes – the way he does whenever he tries to determine whatever someone is telling him is true or not. “Bullshite,” he whispers finally. “What’s wrong?”

Liam groans. “Zayn,” he whines. “Leave it. Go back to bed.”

“Nope,” Zayn says stubbornly. “budge up, I’m coming up there.”

Liam frowns at Zayn’s moving figure. “I don’t really think that –“

“Liam, move, or I’ll squash you,” Zayn says firmly, climbing up the ladder as Liam moves to accommodate space for Zayn to shuffle into. Zayn shimmies across the bed so that he’s settled, lying next to Liam.

“You didn’t have to come up here,” Liam tells him.

“We both know that isn’t true,” Zayn replies as though it's that simple. He turns his body so that he’s facing Liam. “So. Are you going to lie to me again, or do I have to stay here all night to get the truth out of you? Because we both know I can be even more of a stubborn fucker than Lou when I want to be.”

Liam lets a breathy giggle slip past his lips, and in his peripheral, he sees Zayn smile. “It’s just –“ Liam begins, quietly. Hesitantly. “I’m nervous.”

Zayn makes a sound of displeasure. “About?”

Liam shakes his head, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “Nah, just leave it, Zayn.”

“Nope,” Zayn refuses, popping the ‘p’. “I’m a stubborn git. Now, face me, it’s not very enthralling talking to the side of your head.”

Liam obliges, shuffling on the bed so that he’s on his side and he and Zayn are facing each other. They bodies are pressed together on the small mattress, their legs tangled together on the sheets. “Happy now?” Liam asks.

“I would be happier if you’d just _tell_ me,” Zayn teases gently. “Go on.”

Liam inhales a steadying breath. “It’s just –“ he pauses. “I’m nervous.” Zayn says nothing, only raising his eyebrows in question, so Liam continues. “About – this. Everything.”

“Babe,” Zayn says lowly. “you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

“About X Factor,” Liam clarifies finally. “Us. Being on the live shows and all, in front of millions every fucking weekend.”

Zayn frowns, shuffling so they’re slightly closer. “No need to be nervous. Haz, Louis, Niall and I will be right there with you.”

Liam groans in frustration, annoyed at himself for not being good at articulating his thoughts and feelings. “Not that,” he sighs, “like. If we don’t do well,” he whispers. “And when we go home – you guys won’t be there anymore to, like, help me.”

Zayn tuts. “Oh, Liam –“

“And,” Liam continues, cutting him off, “I know people will take the piss out of me after. They did before,” he trails off, his chest tightening as he remembers coming home from the Judge’s Houses two years previous and the never-ending teasing that was directed at him from anonymous people online and his peers. “You guys – you won’t be there anymore. And I’ll be all alone. Again.” He bites his bottom lip and tries to swallow around the lump that’s formed in his throat, willing the tears away.

Zayn exhales through his nose, before hesitantly wrapping his arms around Liam and pulling Liam closer. Liam allows himself to be held in Zayn’s arms and pulled towards his chest, liking the feeling of being secure and the warmth that spreads through his chest as he does so.

“Liam,” Zayn whispers. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

Liam shrugs. “Since the Judges houses.”

Zayn tuts again. “Babe, you’ve got nothing to worry about. It’s not like after this show, if we go out – _if_ , Liam, remember – we won’t just stop talking. You four lads – that includes _you,_ Liam - have become the closest friends I’ve ever had. I’m not just gonna stop talking to you _if_ we go home.”

Liam frowns. “Yeah, but –“

“No, let me finish,” Zayn interrupts gently. “Nobody is gonna take the piss out of you, because you’re practically a celeb now. People would be fuckin’ stupid not to sign you, alright? And if people _do_ try and take the piss out of you, give me a ring and I’ll fuck ‘em up, proper,” he finishes with a laugh. “You’ve no need to be worried, yeah?”

Liam relaxes, tension draining from his shoulders as he sinks further into Zayn’s embrace. “Yeah,” he agrees, nodding into Zayn’s chest.

“Perfect. Now,” he begins, “would it help if I stayed, or…?”

Liam is suddenly grateful for the blanket of darkness, because he feels a familiar heat rise to his cheeks. “Um. Yes, if you don’t mind.”

Zayn snorts. “If I minded, Li, I wouldn’t have suggested it,” he smiles, reaching for the duvet and pulling it up over the pair of them. “Numpty.”

“Goodnight, Zayn,” Liam whispers into Zayn’s chest, his eyes fluttering shut as fatigue sweeps over him.

And, before sleep can claim Liam fully, he feels Zayn’s lips ghosting over his forehead, before he feels Zayn’s lips pressed to his hairline. “Night, Li.”

 

**ii. – uan tour**

The sky is the fading into the familiar aphotic hue of navy, and they’re staying in a fairly swish hotel in Los Angeles. Liam’s curled on the sofa in his hotel room, wrapped in a duvet with his phone clasped in his hands, mindlessly scrolling through twitter when someone knocks on the door.

He stands up, walking towards it before swinging it open, revealing Louis, Niall and Harry, dressed up and ready to go out. “You comin’?” Louis asks.

Liam looks at him, brows furrowed. “Where you going?”

 “Out,” Niall says simply. “Downtown L.A., man, there will be _so_ many girls.” Niall wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “You coming, or what?”

Liam wrinkles his nose. “Nah,” he rejects easily. “Don’t really fancy a night out.”

Niall pouts, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. “But we’re rockstars now, man! There will be _so_ many girls. Liam. _Mate._ ”

“Or,” Harry begins, “we could just go and have a good time out, sans female company, if you want?”

Liam shakes his head again. “Nah, I’m alright. I’ll just stay here.”

Louis just shrugs. “Suit yourself, then,” he says, shrugging, before skipping down the hall with Niall and Harry in tow. Liam closes the door with a sigh before shuffling back over to the couch and wrapping himself in the blanket. His phone buzzes in his pocket. He fishes it out of his jeans, and Zayn’s name flashes on the screen.

_Did u go out w the rest of them? Xx_

Liam taps out his reply.

**_Nah, kinda wanted a night in_ **

Zayn’s reply is imminent.

_:( surely not on your lonesome? Xx_

Liam frowns. He doesn’t really mind spending the night in by himself. He knows that the older lads love to go out and party and that’s fine. He’s pretty sure he can cope by himself for a couple of hours. He’s not _that_ co-dependent.

**_Its fineeeee haha_ **

_Its not fine, im coming to your room with snacks and dvd so open the door when I knock_

**_No zayn its okay I swear,_** Liam types. **_Its cool_**

_Im already coming lol_

_I hope you like doritos ! :))) xxx_

Sure enough, there is a knock on the door, and Liam drags himself off the couch once more and pulls the door open, revealing a smiling Zayn holding up two bags of Cool Original in one hand and The Dark Knight in the other.

“I would say surprise,” Zayn says with a grin, stepping into the room, “but you already knew I was coming.”

A crease forms between Liam’s brows. “Zayn,” he begins, “you didn’t have to do this. Like, I’m fine on my own.”

Zayn shrugs, dropping the crisps on the table before kneeling in front of the telly and opening the DVD case. “Perhaps, but I still _wanted_ to, Liam.”

Liam frowns still, shuffling over to the couch again and collapsing onto it. “Yeah, but – surely you have better things to do?”

Zayn turns to face him, his mouth curved down into a frown. “Liam, are you kicking me out?”

“No!” Liam says, eyes wide and shaking his head. “No, of course not.”

Zayn arches a questioning brow and looks at him challengingly. “Then…what? Am I not allowed to spend the night in with my mate?”

Liam shakes his head slowly. “No…”

Zayn grins, then, popping the movie into the DVD player before throwing himself onto the couch, snuggling next to Liam and pulling his feet under his bum. “Great, because I wasn’t planning on leaving anyway.” He leans forward and opens the bag, before waving it under his nose. “Dorito?” he offers.

Liam smiles, then, taking one and popping it into his mouth. “Cheers.”

Zayn stretches, his arms reaching into the air before they fall lazily so that they rest on the back of the couch, around Liam’s shoulder. “Anytime, mate,” he whispers, before snagging a dorito and snuggling closer to Liam’s side.

 

**iii. – tmh tour, germany**

 

Liam’s heart is rabbiting against his ribcage as he bounds off stage, adrenaline thrumming through his veins. He loves the high he gets after performing. There’s nothing he adores more than singing on stage in front of thousands of people, dancing around with his mates and doing what he’s always _longed_ to do. He’s been doing it for two years now, but it still feels unearthly and surreal, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to the euphoria, but he _loves_ it.

“Sick show, lads!” Niall grins as he runs off stage, cheeks flushed and hair damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. Louis whoops and hi-fives Niall and Harry lets out a happy squeal and jumps on Niall’s back.

“Yay! That was fun, now let’s go for drinks,” Harry beams, dimples on full display. “I’m so hyped right now.”

Zayn just snorts, pushing his hand through his quiff. “I think that you need to calm down a bit, mate, before you go out and do any type of thing.”

“Agreed,” Liam grins, pulling off his snapback and wiping the beads of sweat off his hairline. “Also, have a shower, you stink.”

“Oi!” Harry says. “I smell amazing.”

“You smell like hot armpit,” Zayn laughs. “We all do. I think it’d be wise if we _all_ went to have a wash and then went for drinks, yeah?”

Niall groans. “Yes, mum,” he laughs, before he, Harry and Louis run off backstage towards their dressing rooms, hooting and hollering as they go. Zayn turns to face Liam, eyebrows raised. “Coming, then?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liam says, smiling, “just have to go and give the Dani a ring. She said she had some’ing to say earlier, so.”

The sparkle in Zayn’s eyes fade slightly, his smile faltering, but he nods. “Alright,” he says, “I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

Liam smiles and nods, watching Zayn retreat further backstage before he pulls his phone out of his pocket, sauntering over to the fire exit and pushing it open. He dials Dani’s number as he steps outside, pressing the phone to his ear.

Dani picks up after a couple of rings. “Hello?”

“Hi, babe,” Liam greets warmly. “Y’alright?”

She sighs. “Yeah, yeah, just –“ She pauses. “Liam – I feel really shit about doing this over the phone –“

Liam’s heart stutters to a stop in his chest, and his stomach sinks to the soul of his shoes. He croaks when he says, “Dani –“

“Liam.” Her voice is firm and gentle, but commanding enough to make Liam’s mouth clamp shut. “I feel awful about doing this over the phone, but I really think we need to talk.”

Liam’s throat dries up. “About – about what, love?”

There’s a beat of silence, before she says into the phone, “I think we should break up.”

Liam fails to form coherent sentences after that point, because – he – they – she – “What?”

“I think,” she says again, “I think we need to break up. It’s just not – it’s not working out.”

“What’s not working out?” Liam questions, mildly embarrassed by the wobble in his voice when he speaks. “Breaking up? You’re breaking up with me?”

She sighs again. “Liam…” Another pause. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this any longer. It’s so _hard_ , having your boyfriend gallivanting all over the world and never being able to see him or talk to him because of time differences, and I just _need_ someone here for me, Liam, and you can’t do that for me right now.”

“I…” Liam feels tears sting behind his eyes. “Baby, we can work this out, just, _please –“_ He cuts himself off, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye to stop tears from falling. “I can try. I’ll try so much harder for you, babe.”

“Liam, I can’t ask you to drop everything and come to me when I need you,” she says, gently. “You have a career, a _successful_ one. It’s just – it’s better for us this way.”

Liam swallows the lump in his throat. “So, that’s it then? You and I aren’t – we’re not – we’re over, then?”

She sighs again. “I’m sorry, Liam. I’m sorry it had to be like this.”

Liam bites his lip, tilting his head up and squeezes his eyes shut before releasing a heavy breath. “Alright, Dani.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I’ll just – bye.” And then, she’s gone, leaving only a monotone dial tone ringing in Liam’s ear.

Liam pulls his phone from his ear, hangs up and drops it in his pocket before he takes several steadying breaths to calm himself down. He won’t cry. He _won’t._

He pushes the door open and walks inside, making a beeline for his dressing room with his head down, his fist clenched into tight balls at his side and biting the inside of his cheek, willing the tears he _knows_ will fall away. Just before he can make it to his dressing room, however, Zayn stands in front of him, stopping him by pressing his hand to Liam’s chest.

“You alright, mate?” Zayn asks tentatively. “You look like you’re about to swing at someone.”

He shoves Zayn’s hand off his chest, determinedly avoiding eye contact. “Piss off, Zayn,” he says, tone clipped and abrupt.

Zayn obstinately refuses to move. “Absolutely not. Tell me what’s got you so upset.”

Liam exhales sharply through his nostrils. “Zayn, _move_.”

“Liam, I’m not going anywhere.”

Liam scoffs, pushing past Zayn and storming into his dressing room, slamming the door behind him with a resounding thud, before flopping face first onto the sofa and burying his face in the cushion. Silence settles in the room for all of two seconds, before he hears getting tapping on the door.

“Liam,” Zayn says from the other side. “Open up.”

Liam groans. “Piss. Off.”

“Liam, I am going to open this door.”

“Zayn!” Liam growls, raising his head from the pillow. “Fuck _off_!”

Zayn is nothing if not insistent. “Liam,” he says firmly. “I’m going to open the door and you’re gonna let me, okay?” Liam hears the handle creak as its turned and the squeak of the hinges as the door opens slightly. He listens as the door closes again, and the Zayn’s quiet breathing from the other side of the room. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up, or do I have to guess?”

“You _could_ piss off,” Liam tells him, burying his face in the sofa again.

Zayn scoffs. “You and I both know that’s not gonna happen.” Liam hears as Zayn’s feet pad across the carpeted floor feels at the couch dips next to his feet. “Liam,” Zayn says, his voice much closer now. “Talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

“You can’t help me,” Liam mumbles.

“Don’t know about that,” Zayn says gently. “I’m told I’m good with helping things.”

“Oh really?” Liam asks, raising his head and turning to face Zayn, knowing very well that his eyes are red and wet with tears. “Are you gonna help me and Dani get back together? Or, perhaps, are you gonna reverse time to _before_ she dumped me over the fucking _phone_?” Liam feels his chest getting tight again so he averts his eyes and buries his face into the sofa cushions once more.

Zayn’s brows furrow, eyes filled with sorrow. “Oh, Li,” he sighs. “Come on. Sit up. Time for cuddles.”

And if it were anyone else, Liam would’ve kicked them off the sofa – fuck, he doesn’t think he would even allow them to come into the room – but since it’s Zayn, he obliges, sitting up and immediately allowing himself to be gathered into a hug. Zayn’s arms wrap themselves securely around Liam’s shoulders as he rocks him gently in his arms.

“Babe,” Zayn begins, softly. “Did Dani and you split?”

“She dumped me, rather,” Liam corrects. “Over the phone.”

Zayn lets out an annoyed sound. “Fucking cow,” he swears. “How dare she?”

Liam lets out a watery sigh. “It’s just,” he begins, “I thought we were _so good_. Like, she and I had been in a good place for months, and I thought – well.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh.

“Well what, Li,” Zayn prompts quietly.

“I thought she loved me,” Liam admits in a tiny voice. “Obviously not, though.” He squeezes his eyes shut and pushes his face further into Zayn’s chest. _“God_ , how could I have been so _stupid_?”

“Oi,” Zayn scolds lightly, pinching the back of Liam’s neck gently. “None of that. You are not stupid, Liam.”

“I am though, aren’t I,” Liam laughs bitterly. “I’m too fucking naïve.”

“You’re _young_ , for God’s sake,” Zayn replies. “You get in relationships. You get _out_ of relationships. You make mistakes. You move on. Life goes on, Liam.”

Liam laughs quietly. “You sound like my mother.”

“Your mother is a smart woman,” Zayn teases, but he squeezes Liam tighter, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head. “It’ll be okay, Liam. I’m always here for you, no matter what, yeah?”

Liam nods into his chest. “Yeah,” he whispers back. “I know.”

“Better than any sodding girlfriend you’ll ever have,” Zayn teases, and Liam can practically _hear_ his grin.

 

**iv. – twenty-one**

 

It’s the evening of the twenty-ninth of August, and Liam is sat on his couch watching Great British Bake-Off whilst steadily dipping into a bowl of chocolate covered raisins, and if he’s being completely honest, this was not the way he thought he’d be celebrating his birthday.

Maybe it’s a bit selfish of him, but he expected to be woken up by an onslaught of texts and missed calls from all his mates that read something along the lines of _happy birthday mate!!!_ or _you’re 21!!!! Let's go out for drinks, yeah?_ or _something,_ at least.

God knows he’s spent birthdays alone before. His sixteenth one was an equally important birthday as far as birthdays go, as is his twenty first. But the difference is now is that he has money and can buy the best weed and beer that money can buy, and all he had then was a shitty cake from Sainsbury’s and nobody to eat it with.

Fuck it, he just wants a _little_ acknowledgement. Instead, he was met with radio silence.

Well, not completely; he got a text from Roo and Nicola and his parents and Andy, and, like, _thousands_ of happy birthday tweets, but –

It’s not really the _same_. All the people who acknowledged that it is Liam’s twenty first year on this planet are all people from home, people who – for all intents and purposes – are closer to him. But he’s gone on tour with the rest of the lads, _twice_ now, and they’ve become permanent people in his life. He spends a large majority of his time with them, be it rehearsing or touring or practising or hanging out. He doesn’t have very many friends – he’s always been a little bit introverted and cautious with whom he places his trust in – so it’s not like he can fall back on the _other_ friends to give him a ring or goad him into going out with him whilst he’s stuck with the bill (and, in all honesty, if it came to that, he couldn’t allow himself to be _that_ annoyed. He would much rather be spending money celebrating with other people than to spend his twenty-first birthday alone in his flat, watching reruns of Coronation Street and The Rules of Engagement.).

Liam pulls his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans and stares at it, as if by looking at it will cause someone to remember his birthday and call him. He sighs when nobody does, before opening his twitter app and scrolling through his mentions. He’s got an immeasurable amount of birthday wishes tweets from fans, multiple fan artists’ works from Tumblr that have been sent in from Twitter fans, DM’s from fans he follows wishing him the best. It’s great. He’s grateful for that.

But, it’s just not the _same_. He thinks he’s entitled to be a little bit selfish on his birthday.

He’s about to slide his phone back into his pocket when it rings. It’s Zayn.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIAM!” Zayn screams down the phone as soon as Liam presses the ‘accept’ button.

Liam feels a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks, man,” he says genuinely. “Means a lot.”

“Anything for you, Leeyum,” Zayn says, and Liam can almost hear the smile stretching across Zayn’s lips. “We ought to celebrate tonight!”

“Sounds good,” Liam smiles, but then hesitates. “Will – will the others be there too?” And, God in heaven, he hates how pathetic he sounds when he says that, and he winces at his tone of voice.

“Dunno, man,” Zayn breathes. “I’ve tried to get hold of them, but they’re all not picking up their phones. Busy trying to use their three day breaks wisely, I suppose.”

A familiar pang spreads through Liam’s chest. “Right,” he says, trying his best not to let disappointment sneak into his voice, but failing. “Well, it’s whatever.”

“It’ll be sick, Li,” Zayn says, completely unaware of Liam’s tone. “Come over, yeah? I’ll order a shit tonne of Dominos or Chinese food or whatever – it’s your birthday, you decide – and I’ve already got booze by the load and enough Doritos to fill a pool, so.”

“I could bring a movie, if you wanted?” Liam suggest. “Could have a quiet lads’ night in, yeah?”

“Brill,” Zayn says, gleeful. “Let’s say six-ish?”

“Sounds ace, man,” Liam grins. “See you then.”

“See you,” Zayn says, before hanging up.

Liam slides his phone back into his jeans and pulls himself from the warmth and comfort of his sofa and blankets before glancing at the clock on the wall, which reads it’s ten past five. He grabs the remote, turning off the telly before dragging himself down the hall towards his bedroom to get ready.

At least he’s doing _something_ for his birthday. It could be a lot worse.

*

Liam pulls up at Zayn’s at ten past six, Bad Neighbours DVD in one hand and a six pack of Carling in the other. He saunters up Zayn’s gravel driveway and knocks on the door before Zayn swings it open with a wide grin.

“Leeyum!” he exclaims, beaming as he wraps his arms around Liam in a hug that Liam can’t help but melt into. “Happy birthday, bro.”

A corner of Liam’s mouth tugs up into a smile and he ducks his head as a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. “Thanks, Zed.”

Zayn grins back, the corner of his eyes wrinkling and his tongue pressed behind his teeth – his _special_ smile, Liam’s dubbed it in his head; the smile that Zayn saves for Brooklyn and his mother and, mostly, Liam. “Anytime, babe,” Zayn says, holding the door open. “Just pop the DVD in the living room, yeah?”

Liam toes off his shoes, his socked feet padding on the floor of Zayn’s hallway before he shuffles into the living room. It’s shrouded in darkness, so he flicks on the light switch, and he lets out an honest to God shriek of surprise and terror when people pop out from various pieces of furniture.

“SURPISE!” they scream in union, party poppers going off, confetti being thrown and noise blowers sounding loudly. Niall, Louis and Harry emerge from the rabble of people gathered and fling themselves onto Liam, and Liam’s legs almost go from underneath him.

“Fucking hell,” he grins, eyes crinkling in the corners. “You’re crushing me!”

“Crushing you with _love_ , Liam!” Niall beams, and then proceeds to attack Liam’s cheeks with kisses.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Harry says, smile wide and dimples displayed.

There’s a familiar sting behind his sinuses, and he fears his eyes are welling up with tears. “I – you guys – I mean,” he stutters, unable to string together a coherent sentence. “ _Thank you_ ,” he breathes, voice dripping with sincerity.

“Obviously,” Louis smirks. “It’s not like we forgot your birthday, Liam.”

Liam blushes and ducks his head.

“Oh, my god,” Louis whispers. “You thought we forgot your _birthday_.”

Liam shrugs helplessly. “I dunno,” he says, “it’s just I thought you guys were resting because we have a tiny break, and –“ he shrugs again. “I dunno.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Liam James, I am offended by the insinuation that you think that we would forget your twenty-first birthday and then let you spend it _alone_ ,” Niall gasps, slapping Liam gently upside the head. “Idiot.”

“My sincerest apologies, Niall James,” Liam teases. “Do you mind getting off me, now, because I think my circulation is being cut off.”

They clamber off of him, and Louis snags the beer before skipping off to the kitchen with it, Harry and Niall in tow. Liam gets about half a second to breathe again before he’s tackled into another hug by Zayn. Liam grins and buries his face in Zayn’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of _Zayn_ ; cigarettes, expensive cologne and spice.

“Happy birthday, Leemo,” Zayn says softly – loud enough to be heard over the chatter in the room, but quiet enough to resonate.

“Thanks, Zayn,” Liam whispers back. “I mean it. Thank you. Loads.”

Zayn exhales a chuckle. “You don’t have to thank me, Liam.”

Liam pulls back and stares at him. “I do though, because if I didn’t I’d still be sat on my couch watching Bake-Off.”

Zayn frowns at him. “You can’t honestly think I’d let you spend your birthday _alone_ , did you?” When Liam hesistates, Zayn tsks. “You utter numpty,” he says, fondly.

Liam feels a familiar warmth spreading through his cheeks. “I’m sorry. But, still – thank you.”

Zayn presses a kiss on his forehead, and Liam pretends not to feel butterflies erupt in his stomach. “Anytime.”

*

Later, when Liam’s a bit more alcohol lubricated, he sidles up to where Zayn’s standing on the wall, nursing a beer, and presses his face into his neck. “Mm,” he hums. “You’re warm.”

Zayn snorts, wrapping an arm around Liam’s shoulders and pulling him in. “You’re a cuddly drunk, aren’t you?”

Liam beams. “Sometimes,” he sighs. “Only when I’m happy.”

Zayn chuckles. “You’re happy, then?”

“Very,” Liam nods. He pauses. “Zayn, can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Zayn says, sipping his beer. “Shoot.”

“How long were you planning the surprise for?”

Zayn hums, swallowing the sip. “A week, or two. Why?”

Liam shrugs, snuggling closer into Zayn’s side. “Just curious,” he hums. “You’re very cuddly, Zayn.”

“And you’re rather drunk, Liam,” Zayn laughs. “I think you’ve had enough booze, yeah?”

Liam pouts but sighs resignedly. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “It’s really nice that you did this.”

Zayn grins. “You keep thanking me.”

“It’s ‘cause I’m very grateful,” Liam tells him, honestly. “Nobody has ever gone to this much trouble for me.”

“Believe me when I say it wasn’t any trouble, Liam. I did it because I wanted to, alright?” he says with a grin, and Liam nods, biting back a smile.

 

**v. – otra, sydney**

 

They’re backstage, and Liam saunters into the green room, only to find Zayn cuddled up on the floor with Brooklyn in his lap. She’s babbling nonsensically, slapping her palm to his cheek, and Zayn’s nodding as if he understands her, smiling at her when she flashes her toothless grin. Liam can’t really be blamed for the small smile that stretches across his lips as he watches them.

“It’s kind of sickening how much you love babies,” Liam tells him from the doorway. “Absolutely revolting.”

Zayn grins as Brooklyn grabs his nose. “However will I be able to maintain my mysterious bad boy image,” he says deadpan. “My aesthetic is ruined.”

Liam snorts, before sauntering over to where Zayn and Brooklyn sit on the floor before dropping down in front of the pair of them with his legs cross. Brooklyn grins and toddles over to Liam, reaching for his cheeks with spitty palms splayed open. “Beneath your black ripped jeans and broods, you’re a marshmallow,” Liam tells him as Brooklyn reaches for his hair.

Zayn gasps in mock offence. “Brooklyn thinks I’m cool,” he tells Liam. “Don’t you, Brooklyn?”

She turns to him, before giggling and blowing a raspberry. Zayn grins at her. “I think she means yes.”

“She loves me more,” Liam argues, and Brooklyn supports this statement as she crawls into his lap and looks up at him, her brown eyes wide and her toothless grin growing.  “I’m cool, ain’t I?”

“Li,” she coos, reaching for his nose. Liam smiles down at her, smoothing a hand over her curls and she giggles again, snuggling into his arms. Liam catches Zayn looking at the both of them with an expression on his face somewhat akin to fondness.

“I think,” Zayn says reaching for her, “that you shouldn’t be allowed to hold her.”

Liam pouts at him. “And why is that?”

Brooklyn squeals at being taken from Liam, but immediately starts babbling happily again once she’s back with Zayn. “Because,” Zayn begins with a grin, “you two being together is too cute and my heart can’t take any more of this.”

Liam blushes, but smiles teasingly, batting his eyelashes. “You think I’m cute?”

“Of course I do, Liam,” Zayn says quietly, but seriously. “You’re the cutest person ever.”

Liam’s cheeks redden further. “I like to think I’m ruggedly handsome.”

Zayn smirks. “You are ruggedly handsome,” he tells Liam, “and gorgeous. And cute.”

Liam blinks. He – Zayn’s teasing him. He has to be. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Liam tries to laugh it off, but fails miserably, his cheeks still aflame.

“M’not though,” Zayn says quietly, shuffling closer with Brooklyn still in his lap, who’s gnawing happily on her fist. “I quite like you, Liam.”

And Liam’s mind just – stops. Zayn – he – _what?_

“Zayn,” Liam stammers. “you – I –“

Zayn grins, and leans forward to press a kiss to the tip of Liam’s nose. “You’re cute. I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Liam can’t do words right now, so he settles for a blush and a simple, quiet, “Oh.”

Zayn grins. “ _Oh_ ,” he mocks. “That’s it?”

Liam blushes again, ducking his chin and distracting himself by playing with Brooklyn’s fists. “I don’t know what quite to say.”

“I would’ve thought you’d have clocked it by now,” Zayn says, tickling Brooklyn’s cheek, making her squeal and clap her hands animatedly. “I mean, I don’t snuggle and share Doritos with just _anyone_.”

Liam smiles. “I always, like _thought_ , but I kinda thought you were just being…nice.”

Zayn rolls his eyesfondly. “You’re such an idiot.”

Liam smiles at him. “Yet, you like me anyways.”

Brooklyn squawks when Zayn leans over and presses a lingering, closed-mouth kiss to Liam’s lips. “yeah, I do.”

 

**fin**

**Author's Note:**

> come shout at me [here](http://www.zainsupremacy.tumblr.com/)


End file.
